


Chocolate Therapy

by appalachian_fireflies



Series: Born From the Earth Fics [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Born From the Earth, Comfort Sex, Healing, Heat Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Tony Stark, Omega Verse, Omega/Omega, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 10:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13269330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appalachian_fireflies/pseuds/appalachian_fireflies
Summary: Tony poses against the doorframe, looks up through his lashes.  “Hello.”“When you said you were sending a gift, I must admit this wasn’t what I’d imagined.”“I should’ve gotten a bow," Tony says, extending the pint of Chocolate Therapy.  "Then you could’ve unwrapped me.”





	Chocolate Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fanfic of Venusm's epic "Born From the Earth." All characters & worldbuilding are Venusm's incredible labor! 
> 
> Happy snow day, northeast US! Stay inside and read porn, don't get swallowed by the polar vortex.

Theoretically, Tony should be at the table with the SI and Rand suits. Blah, blah, multimillion dollar contract, whatever. Obie had tried to anchor Tony in place with a heavy arm around his shoulders, but Tony has had plenty of practice in weaseling out of being touched by now. Within minutes he’s somehow across the room, sequestered in a booth with half of O-gasm’s working girls and boys. Probably because he bribed them with champagne. 

He’ll go back to the negotiations. He will. In a minute. 

“But how do you _know_ what they want?” says Jacob, a boy with big doe eyes.

“You just do,” Chastity shrugs. She sweeps the long silver bangs of her wig away from her sharp cat’s eye liner. 

“It’s easy,” Tony cuts in. “Pattern recognition. Solve for x.” 

“Oh, here we go,” Honey rolls her eyes. 

“Excuse me, who fucked their way to a Sexiest Plaything Alive award? Was it you? No. Jacob, listen to me,” Tony shuffles over, nudging Chastity out of his lap to sit with her girlfriends. “Every mark has a weak spot.”

“Like, if he wants to feel powerful. Make you behave,” Chastity offers. 

“The pumpkin spice of johns,” Tony points at her. “That shit’s everywhere. OK, so now you’ve got to solve for your variables. What does he want?”

“Um,” Jacob pauses. “Gags?”

“Right,” Tony snaps his fingers together. “Or maybe he wants to tie you up, right? So you have to head him off, otherwise the idiot will use a silk tie and tell you to struggle, then boom, the knot slips and you have no circulation in your fingers.” 

Honey leans her head on Tony’s shoulder. “You don’t have to listen to him, Jacob. He’s clinically paranoid.” 

“It’s not paranoid if they’re out to get you,” Tony huffs, tips the red lenses of his glasses down so he can see the kid’s face properly, squints at the flashing lights from the stage. “Sex is a weapon alphas will try to use against you. Turn it back on them. Strike first.” 

Honey sighs and scratches her plastic nails through Tony’s goatee, affectionate. “Is your phone buzzing?”

“Yeah, Pepper’s been texting me,” Tony doesn’t reach for his suit jacket pocket. He can feel Pepper’s glare from across the room. Just another minute.

“I think someone’s calling,” Honey says, pulling the phone from his pocket. “Oh,” she looks at the screen, hands it over. “It’s your boyfriend.” 

“Ooh, are you dating?” Chastity leans over. 

“No,” Tony says irritably, swipes the screen open and holds the phone to his ear. “Hey, babe.” 

“Who’s the boyfriend?” Chastity whispers to Honey. 

Honey raises an eyebrow. “Alex Richardson.” 

“No fucking way,” Chastity breathes. “My cousin works for him. She said-“

“Shh,” Tony waves a hand. “Not you, just someone- yeah. No, nothing important. What’s up?” Tony covers his other ear with his hand, and he can just hear Alex over the slow beat of the music. 

“I don’t want to bother you.” Alex sounds miserable, and Tony feels a sharp pang of worry. Alex doesn’t normally call; sometimes he need a consult on intel, but he usually routes that through Jarvis first. Tony hasn’t even seen Alex since their last hunt. They’re both too busy to find the time; that’s all. 

“Your family ok?” Tony glances around the club, and accidentally meets Pepper’s gaze. Yikes. He shuffles until Honey is obscuring her line of sight. 

“Yes, everyone’s fine. Mom says she missed you at the Christmas party. It’s- I’m being ridiculous.”

“How’s Price?” Tony asks, and Alex makes a grumpy noise. 

“I lost the contract.”

“What happened?” Tony stands, shuffling away towards the door. 

Alex sighs again. “Have you ever walked into a room, and felt- the temperature changing. I don’t think they realized, over the phone-“

“Usually my reputation precedes me,” Tony replies. But, yes. He knows. 

“I hate it,” Alex says. “The negotiations were over before I opened my mouth. They’re not going to let some uppity bitch sit at the Old Boys’ table.”

“Fuck them,” Tony says. “You’re going to destroy them. Those execs probably don’t know polyethylene from PVC.”

Alex sniffs. “They wanted to put an SDR 35 in with 2 inches of slope.”

“Well, let them lie in their shit clogs. Don’t worry about those idiots, babe. Hey, listen- I’m going to send you a present,” Tony opens the door of the club, and fuck it is cold out. “Look out for it.” 

“Ok, Tony,” Alex laughs. 

Tony ends the call. “Jarvis, tell Happy to save me before I die of exposure.” 

“I’ve already taken the liberty, sir. ETA 30 seconds.” 

Tony makes a kissy noise at the phone. “What does Alex’s schedule look like for the next few days?” 

“Sir’s schedule is clear for the next two days,” Jarvis says. 

Huh. Tony hops from foot to foot, and blessedly he can see Happy rounding the corner. The door of the club opens behind him, and gets a whiff of Pepper’s scent as he jogs up to meet the car. 

“Drive,” he tells Happy as he slides into the backseat. 

“You got it, boss,” Happy takes off. “She looks pissed. What did you do?” 

“Try again,” Tony says. 

“Sure, sure. Where are we going?”

“Virginia,” Tony looks out at the city, the light already fading on this side of the solstice. “Unless you’ve got any hot dates.”

“Buckle in,” Happy straightens up. “I’ll get you there in a couple hours.”

Tony spots the sign in the convenience store window, and taps the glass divider. “Hold on, Hap. I have to grab something first.” 

*

Alex’s apartment in Virginia is on the top floor of an Arlington high rise that looks out over the Potomac. As he exits the elevator, Tony can see the constellation of DC lights spread out below him. The height restrictions of the city proper and the wide panes of glass make the view unparalleled, but Tony doesn’t spare it more than a glance. He wonders if this is a terrible idea. It probably is. He shoves the anxiety down; the instinct had been so strong, and it felt right. He needed to come here. 

He knocks on Alex’s door and waits. He’s already been buzzed in, but Alex will check the security cameras before he opens the door. Tony can feel his pulse jump when the door cracks open, which is ridiculous; it’s just Alex. 

“Hello, darling,” Alex looks at him, brows furrowed. His hair hasn’t been cut recently; Tony can see bits of the minky brown sticking up with static. 

Tony poses against the doorframe, looks up through his lashes. “Hello.” 

“When you said you were sending a gift, I must admit this wasn’t what I’d imagined.”

“I should’ve gotten a bow,” Tony says. “Then you could’ve unwrapped me.” 

The door closes briefly, and Tony can hear the chain sliding out. The chain itself is mostly for show; Tony upgraded the security himself. He has for all of Alex’s apartments. 

The door opens again, and Alex looks small in the shadow of the heavy door. He’s not wearing one of his bespoke suits or even his flannel and work boots; instead, he’s dwarfed in an overlarge t-shirt. His cheeks are flushed, pupils wide with a thin rim of hazel. 

Tony leans in and sniffs. It’s unaccountably rude. “You’re in heat.” 

Alex looks around behind Tony to peer at the empty hall, flushing red. “Not yet.” 

The convenience store bag crinkles when Tony opens it (Have a Nice Day!) and extends the Ben and Jerry’s. 

“Chocolate Therapy,” Tony waves the pint, and Alex makes a pathetic noise, darting forward to snatch it. Once the ice cream is securely cradled against his chest, Alex considers Tony for a long moment. 

“Do you still want to stay? I won’t be offended. Emily has a house, in Clifton-” 

“Don’t be stupid,” Tony says. “Why do you think I brought the Chocolate Therapy?” Alex normally prefers mint; the Chocolate Therapy is heat ice cream. Tony has known this for years. Hell, he’s even remembered it. 

There’s a flare of something like hope in Alex’s eyes as he processes this. His hand darts out to grab Tony’s wrist, grip surprisingly strong, and hauls him inside. 

Tony gets spoons from the drawer and sets the ice cream on the kitchen table, but Alex makes a grumpy noise and carts it off to the living room in a bucket of ice. There’s an implausibly plush navy couch covered in a nest of microfleece blankets, which Alex fussily rearranges so Tony can join him. He sets one of the spoons on the sturdy wooden side table along with the lid, and uses the other to scoop out a small chunk of ice cream. 

Instead of bringing it to his lips, Alex offers the bite to Tony, and who is he to refuse that? He makes a show of licking the spoon, then his lips. Alex laughs, and his amusement is so light and genuine that Tony has to look away, fiddle with the blankets. Alex’s scent is all over them; Tony imagines him curled up, bare skin brushing the soft fabric. This close to a heat, anything else would feel like sandpaper.

Tony wants to bury himself in this scent; he breathes deep and sighs, feels his body relax. It smells like pleasure and home, safety. He feels Alex watching him, and when he meets his warm brown eyes the pull of desire is so strong, so viscerally present that he almost feels afraid. 

“Darling?” Alex’s voice brings him back. He can feel the gentle brush of Alex’s fingertips on the back of his hand. 

Alex’s thumb traces a gentle line down the tendons, and Tony can’t deal with this, the care in his touch and the worry in his eyes. 

“Do you still want me?” Tony fiddles with a tag on one of the blankets. It’s unusual; Alex has a habit of cutting them out. 

“Come here,” Alex shifts so he’s leaning against the arm rest. Tony scoots into his arms, pulls them around his waist and leans back, tilts his head to the side when Alex noses at his scent. 

Tony thinks about the long, thin scars there, and feels ashamed. He wonders what he smells like to Alex, now; he knows that he still reeks of Fromm. 

He hadn’t meant to do this. He’d had a plan; flirt a bit, give Alex a blowjob. Make him feel good. Fix everything. 

The thing is, Tony knows that Alex has been waiting for him. After Them, Alex did everything he could to keep Tony sane; even when Tony was a fucked-up bitch, blacking out and rigging up explosives, Alex made sure he never felt alone. He was patient, careful. Hell, he’s taken Tony hunting. He’s done everything, _been_ everything humanly possible that he could be for Tony. 

Alex did all of that, and Tony still banged some random alpha at a party whose name he doesn’t remember. And then a couple dozen more after that. He knows Alex must follow the news; god knows what he thought about the Sexiest Plaything award. Tony hasn’t asked, and Alex hasn’t brought it up. 

He’s thought about what he could say, but he doesn’t know how to explain in a way that Alex will understand. He’s broken. He used to be open under Alex’s hands, go under for him, trusting. He can’t do that anymore. He can’t inhabit his body like it’s not the weapon he can rely on to save him. 

“Shh,” Alex says, and turns Tony towards him, his palm stroking down Tony’s back like he’s a child. It makes him want to fight, to say something cruel and sharp that will make Alex push him back out the door. Even as he thinks it, he knows it wouldn’t work; Alex knows him, all of his escape routes. All of his fears. 

Tony closes his eyes and lets his body relax into Alex’s touch. It feels like falling into a suspended silence, like Alex is a pile driven deep into the ocean floor, steady as waves crash around him. Alex keeps up the slow petting, and Tony feels his pulse drop, the edge of panic ebbing away. He’s going under, and he tilts his head up to kiss Alex on the lips, drunk with it. Maybe this won’t be too hard; he can feel himself letting go already. This isn’t so bad. Alex would enjoy him like this. 

Alex makes a noise, pulls back from the kiss. “Tony. I want you to talk to me.” 

Tony makes a grumpy noise, because, unfair. That part of his brain that does things like schematics and verbal speech is shutting off, and he doesn’t want to summon the energy to pull it back.

“Tony,” Alex’s voice changes; deep, stern. It’s enough to make Tony’s backbrain poke up and pay attention, eager to please. 

“I love your voice,” Tony rubs his stubble against Alex’s neck, feels his sharp intake of breath. He sounds a little drunk. 

“I like yours too,” Alex says, fond, amused. “I’d like to hear it more.” 

“Don’t wanna,” Tony complains, and tries to slide down to bury his face in Alex’s lap. He’s pretty sure Alex won’t complain if his dick is in Tony’s mouth. 

Alex’s fingers bury themselves in his curls, gripping hard to hold Tony in place. Tony makes a little noise, arches into it. The sting of pain feels good. 

“No,” Alex says sternly, but he sounds fond. Tony goes still, and Alex’s fingers scratch lightly at Tony’s scalp in reward, and ooh wow, that feels so good. No one can do that like Alex can; they’re either too hard, repetitively rubbing one spot raw, or soft enough to tickle.

“Ngh,” Tony says, and Alex chuckles. 

“You were saying?” 

“You’re ruining the plan,” Tony informs him. “The ice cream was supposed to drive you wild with lust. Was gonna give you a blowjob, make you feel better.” 

“That’s very sweet of you,” Alex strokes the blunt tips of his fingers gently behind the sensitive shell of Tony’s ear. “Maybe later. If you’re good.”

“I can be good,” Tony tips his head back onto Alex’s shoulder, baring his throat. “I can be so good.” 

“Brat,” Alex says fondly, tracing one finger down over Tony’s adam’s apple, the vulnerable concave curve below. Tony shudders. “Is that why you came here? To make me feel better?”

Tony could say yes; he would, if this weren’t Alex, if he weren’t sliding so far under. But it isn’t true; the answer is simpler than that. He shakes his head. “I wanted to.”

“You wanted to come here?” 

Tony nods. 

“You knew I was in heat?” 

“Jarvis. Your calendar’s empty.”

“Sneaky,” Alex says approvingly. “You know what would make me feel really good right now?”

Tony turns his full attention to Alex. “Hmm?”

“I,” Alex taps a finger on Tony’s chest, “would like to get in bed-“

Tony opens his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue, but Alex cuts him off.

“And sleep for at least 10 hours.” 

“Ok, Alex,” Tony relaxes against his chest, letting Alex support his weight. Now that he mentions it, Tony feels exhausted. He’s gotten used to ignoring it, lately, until sleep is imminent- even then, he wakes up every couple of hours, heart racing. 

“Care to join me?” Alex’s voice is amused. 

“Yeah,” Tony says. 

“Darling, you have to get up first.”

“Noo.” 

“Tony.” 

Alex shoves a final spoonful of Chocolate Therapy into his mouth and carefully tucks it into the freezer for later. He tugs Tony to the bedroom and starts unlacing Tony’s shoes and unbuckling his jeans. It should be sexy, but it feels more like Alex is tucking in a toddler. Tony pulls irritably at Alex’s t-shirt, wanting to cuddle up against bare skin. The cold air makes Alex shiver, and he’s dragged one of the fleece blankets from the couch to cover them in place of the silk top sheet. They cuddle closer with some strategic wiggling, thighs slotted together, fingers searching for the curves of hips.

It’s just right, the scent, the plush texture of the blanket, the warmth of Alex’s body wrapped around him. He can feel the smile on Alex’s lips when he kisses the nape of Tony’s neck, follows it up with a nuzzle that makes Tony go pliant. 

Tony’s dropped off before he even realizes it, fast and deep. He doesn’t have to fight the urge to stay alert, to keep watch. His body just gives up, lets the tension go. He’s safe. 

*

When Tony wakes up, the sun has just started to filter through the curtains. He doesn’t open his eyes; he’s almost afraid to see the room, to bring himself to the present. He’s not sure what he dreamed of, but the way it felt follows him into consciousness. Waking up in the morning, rolling right out of bed, ready to go on an adventure. It’s the earth on his bare skin, peeling their shirts off and basking in the sunlight. The future full of new ideas and projects. No eyes on their bodies in public like ownership; a freedom in his skin he’d forgotten. 

He thinks Alex, with all his books and articles, would say that alphas and betas are considered charming for their retained youth, carefree. That everyone forgets- they felt that too. They rolled in the sand shirtless and swam without consciousness of their imperfect, examined bodies. They used to be free. 

Tony rolls gently onto his side, can’t stop himself from cracking his eyes open. Alex’s breathing is soft and slow, his lips slightly parted. The heat has flushed his body pink, and he’ll wake up any minute now, wanting. And there it is again- this feeling that he doesn’t have anymore, except behind reinforced doors, carried home by Alex’s scent. The open sky, the fresh earth. 

Tony leans in to Alex’s warmth, kisses the exposed skin of his neck. Alex makes a soft noise and stretches a little, arching his back. His fingers find their way to Tony’s shoulder, and he tugs him closer, encouraging. Tony lets him, feels the warm weight of Alex’s cock against his belly, rubs up against it, ostentatious enough to make Alex huff a small laugh. 

Tony slows down, strokes Alex’s hip until he sighs, eyelids fluttering. Tony’s teeth graze over the sensitive skin just below his ear, and Alex makes pleased noise, so distinctly omegan that Tony closes his eyes for a moment. He lets his fingers drift over the curve of Alex’s hip, up to the soft, subtle curve of his chest, and he can feel Alex’s fingernails digging into his shoulder. 

When he looks up, Alex’s eyes are open, but they’re soft, heavy-lidded. Tony ducks his head, pulls the blankets down until he can press lips and tongue to an exposed nipple, feels stomach muscles contracting under his palm. Alex is more pliant than usual, when he’s like this- sensitive all over with the heat, sleepy and relaxed. Tony slides the kisses down Alex’s ribcage, over his belly, holds his hips in his hands and thumbs over the line of his pelvis. 

He feels fingers sliding into his hair and shivers at the pleasure of it, the reward inherent in the gesture. He’s making Alex feel good, hips shifting for the touch of the sheets on his low back. He looks up to meet Alex’s eyes, dark with arousal, cheeks flushed and lips pink. The guiding hand doesn’t leave Tony’s hair, and Tony doesn’t look away as he takes the tip of Alex’s cock gently between his lips. 

Alex lets out a choked moan, fingers clenching and unclenching in Tony’s hair, and the loss of control is as delicious as the velvet touch of Alex’s cock sliding along his tongue. He’s so wet now, and Tony can smell it, feels his body respond with a weird pavlovian relaxation and pleasure. He presses forward until Alex’s cock is grazing the back of his throat, swallows as his chin presses against the wet entrance below, feels Alex’s grip go painfully tight, the sharp intake of breath. He presses one finger inside, and it’s so easy to slip all the way in, to have Alex’s body open up for him the way he never does. 

Tony can feel it before it happens, the muscles contracting around him, the taste of Alex’s come on his tongue. He feels proud at Alex’s sigh of relief, of his body going limp underneath him. 

Tony looks up, grinning, and Alex just laughs. 

“Come up here,” Alex orders with a little tug to his hair, and Tony goes. 

Once Alex catches his breath, he responds with an attack on Tony’s body that makes him squirm and gasp; there are little red bite marks where Alex has taken the skin and rolled it between his teeth, and Tony wants bruises, begs for them as Alex rolls him onto his stomach, pins his wrists above his head. The brush of lips on the side of Tony’s neck is all the warning he gets before Alex bites at his favorite spot, hard enough to make Tony sob. Alex shushes him, kisses gently at the nape of his neck, nuzzles the curls there until Tony relaxes again. He’s shaking with anticipation and need by the time Alex spreads his legs, presses in two fingers to make sure he’s ready to be fucked, follows it quickly with his cock. 

It’s hard and fast the first time, Alex’s fingernails leaving little crescent moons on his hips while Tony turns his head to the side and pants. He’s ready for it the second time when Alex fucks him slow and deep, waits until Tony loses every shred of his self-control then makes him cry out. After the third time, he’s a bit sore, but he’s so deeply under that he doesn’t want to lose the skin contact, so Alex just sits up against the headboard and pulls Tony into his arms, murmuring praise until Tony relaxes. 

It’s all wrong, because Alex is in heat and Tony should be taking care of him, but Alex draws up a hot bath and feeds Tony small pieces of sandwiches until they’re ready to go back to sleep. 

Tony dreams that he wakes up for a bit, the sun warm on his back, and he blinks awake to see Alex looking down at him. There are tears in his eyes, which is unacceptable, so Tony pats Alex’s knee reassuringly until he gives Tony a soft smile and pets his hair until he falls back asleep. 

The next day they are daringly athletic, and it’s all fun and games until Alex accidentally rolls him out of bed and onto the floor, and Tony is cackling so hard that Alex gives up and laughs until he bends over, gasping for breath. Tony’s phone keeps going off, so he leaves it in the kitchen. He’ll just take this bag of potato chips back over to the couch to watch cartoons and drape himself over his nice warm Alex. It’s cold outside, but Alex is radiating heat like a furnace, and the sun through the windows is warm. 

Tony hears mail being pushed through the slot and wanders over to pick it up, sort through the junk. There’s one that’s hand-addressed, and he sits in Alex’s lap to tear it open. 

“Tony,” Alex scolds, but with no real heat. He tries to pluck the paper from Tony’s hand- it’s not a letter, but a shiny pamphlet on heavy cardstock. 

“Jesus Christ,” Tony says as he takes in the solemn omega on the cover, the faux-zen background. He points to the list of bullet points under _services offered_. “Who just painted a target on their back?”

Alex swallows, cheeks flushing, snatches the pamphlet from Tony. 

“You’re shitting me,” Tony sits up. “Alex,” he can hear his pitch jump an octave, getting louder with each word. “Have you read this?” He jabs viciously at the bullet point for _victims of marital rape_. 

“The original design comps weren’t as thorough,” Alex has that stubborn look on his face, the ‘I’m planting my feet right here and if you try to move me so help you God.’ “I insisted.” 

“Change it,” Tony says, feels his heart beating fast in his chest. He stands up, starts pacing in front of the couch. 

“No,” Alex’s voice takes on its best steely tone, which is normally very effective. But. 

“Wasn’t the abortion pill enough?” Tony yells. “Jesus, Alex!”

Alex just watches him, quiet. He does this sometimes; waits, listens. 

Tony can’t hold on to his anger when Alex won’t match it, and he drops his head, looks away. “Some fucker is going to shoot you dead over this.” 

“Maybe,” Alex allows, and the admission is like a knife through the peaceful reprieve of the past couple days. “But others would take my place. The clinic will stay open.” 

“It doesn’t have to be you,” Tony tries. 

“This is who I am,” Alex gestures to the apartment, and even with his family’s wealth it’s a reminder of what Tri Tech has become. “Tony,” his voice goes gentle, and Tony can’t deal with that. “We’ve both become what’s needed of us. You can’t ask me to turn away any more than I can ask that of you.” 

Tony grabs for his phone, pointedly ignores Alex, bratty as ever. “J found some security cam footage of Atchison in Michigan. He’s probably hiding out somewhere nearby.” He tosses the phone over to Alex, who catches it without complaint. 

Alex’s gaze goes sharp, tracking the body in the blurry footage. The easy relaxation is gone, replaced with something clear, alert. “Jarvis, can you enlarge this?” 

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis says. “It’s good to have you back.” 

“Thank you, darling,” Alex smiles.


End file.
